The True Heiress Is The Real Bigshot - Chapter 390 - 369 Things you cant get the big shot can do it

The clock struck midnight when Ruelle heard the echo of footsteps. She tensed, the fine hairs on the back of her neck standing on end in the cool night air.“You shouldn't be here,” Ruelle whispered, her voice a breathless murmur. The silhouette finally came to stand under the moonlight, his dark red eyes watching her and his inky black hair ruffling.“Shouldn't I?” His voice was a dark caress, and she stood there captivated by the danger he exuded like perfume.“I haven’t seen you for the last two days,” his tone low. His hand reached out, fingers brushing against the silk of her nightgown, tracing the trembling outline of her collarbone. “Tell me, were you avoiding me, or perhaps... entertaining other offers?”Ruelle’s heart raced, her breaths shallow. She declared, “I don't belong to anyone.”“A bold claim,“ he murmured, his breath a tantalising chill against her skin as he leaned in. ”Yet here you are, pulse racing, your body tensed as if in anticipation of my touch.”His fingers gripped her chin, tilting her face towards his. The moonlight caught his eyes, revealing a glint of predatory intent. “Or must I remind you whose touch you truly crave?”

Reborn as a sister of a villain with no blood or tears in a war-fiction novel. Anyway, that guy, who plays ‘my brother’ role, is a villain who will be sealed by the Main Lead after losing the war. So I just need to pretend to be his little sister until he disappears. No, at least that’s how I think … ‘Something in your right hand, is that the main lead’s head?’ My brother won the war. *** “What’s with the suitcase?” “Yes?” At the tip of Dietrich’s long finger, there was a package that I had wrapped up as soon as he left for the battlefield. “I asked what it is.” “It’s, It’s a travel bag, brother.” “Travel? Alone?” Dietrich’s dark eyes glistened. The man who had just returned from victory had a strange smell of blood from mu*der. “Will you leave me?”

He was once Head of the Immortal Sects.

Jiang Zheliu resisted the world’s destruction, protecting the people single-handedly. After losing all his spiritual energy, his hair turned white overnight.

All that remained was a millennium passed in vain, and a grave disease.

He distanced himself from the Cultivation World, went to Zhongnan Mountain to collect herbal medicines and grow flowers, as if to retire.

Until….. Those little demons he had once saved, his cherished juniors, even those devils that he had suppressed innumerable times, all came knocking at his door, each more excited than the next gripping his hand:

“Qianbei, what type do you like? Can you not be so rigid on your requirements?”

Jiang Zheliu: “……？？？”

Wenren Ye is newly appointed Devil Lord of the Devil Realm.

He is cold-hearted, devilishly handsome, and when he was younger he suffered a humiliating defeat at the hands of a certain Head of the Immortal Sects.

Still obsessed with this defeat, Wenren Ye hurried through the night to Zhongnan Mountain, but all he saw was white-haired weak Immortal Sects Leader, with droopy eyes, sick to the bone, with freshly coughed up blood staining his lips.

His obsession was still alive, but his heart was also thumping.

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